True Story
True Story

YFN Lucci ft. Kevin Gates - True Story Lyrics

4
True Story Music Video

True Story Lyrics

Yeah, look

Always wanted me a Cutlass, huh, with the bucket seat
Always grew up hustling, gettin' money, the hood showed love to me
All my young niggas sprayin', so on my side, this shit get ugly
You ain't stand up for your mans, so don't be lyin', talkin' 'bout you gon' thug for me
Always on my dick, bruh, you don't love me
Always callin' me big bruh, and you don't know me
Oh, I can't make this shit up, trust me
I can't count this shit up, true story

Uh, I used to wan' play for the Knicks
Started servin' these J's nicks
Off the porch to the pavement
I was broke, I was takin' risks
Man, I was fucked up, I hated it
Uh, it was hard to get some paper work
So we was always takin' shit, uh
Back then
Used to go to Jacks just to get the pack, it wasn't much, but I had it
Work the block, no, beat the block all night, girl, I'm Michael Jackson
Uh, I ain't gotta sell drugs no more, baby girl, I'm brackin'
I ain't gotta sell drugs no more, baby girl, I'm crackin'
Yeah, why play when we love to shoot?
I hate that you turned your back on me, I had way too much love for you, yeah
I see that you fallin' back from me, huh, ain't no more askin' me, yeah
Ain't no more cappin' me (nah), can't get no cash from me

Always wanted me a Cutlass, huh, with the bucket seat
Always grew up hustling, gettin' money, the hood showed love to me
All my young niggas sprayin', so on my side, this shit get ugly
You ain't stand up for your mans, so don't be lyin', talkin' 'bout you gon' thug for me
Always on my dick, bruh, you don't love me
Always callin' me big bruh, and you don't know me
Oh, I can't make this shit up, trust me
I can't count this shit up, true story (yeah)

Got kicked in my ass, my loyalty used against me, look at what love did
I was betrayed, the streets had led us astray when we was just kids
I been to the pen', got tough skin
I run with the real, so what then?
I hope he don't fold when he go up the road
Send money for soap, enough, yeah
And I'm on the road to riches
Money attractin' these niggas and scandalous hoes, already knowin' the business
Doin' the best we can, we pickin' up cans, one of the strongest members
One of your partners went dig in your pockets, you say you ain't got it, he throwin' a triple
All in his feelings, he making these songs and disses, still I control the city
Bruh, he gon' touch your soul, get rid of the coldness in it
Learn to control my feelings
I let it go and I got me a load delivered
Got me some soldiers, makin' 'em do what I showed 'em
That's how you 'posed to get it
Not ashamed to say I'm afraid to get close to niggas

Always wanted me a Cutlass, huh, with the bucket seat
Always grew up hustling, gettin' money, the hood showed love to me
All my young niggas sprayin', so on my side, this shit get ugly
You ain't stand up for your mans, so don't be lyin', talkin' 'bout you gon' thug for me
Always on my dick, bruh, you don't love me
Always callin' me big bruh, and you don't know me
Oh, I can't make this shit up, trust me
I can't count this shit up, true story

Yeah, that's that gun smoke

Writer(s): Rayshawn Lamar Bennett, Kevin Gilyard, Julius Rivera
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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